


i still see your bright eyes, bright eyes (and it all comes down to you)

by dontstraytoofar



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-07-29 23:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16274159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontstraytoofar/pseuds/dontstraytoofar
Summary: Misty’s eyes flicker back and forth across Cordelia’s face, and maybe spending so many years in hell is making Misty think that she might be finally looking at heaven.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> okay, yeah okay, they own me. 
> 
> this is set in 8x05 because wow we really got the foxxay content we deserve after five years huh! anyways this is just something i needed to write after seeing that episode, its post misty coming back alive and the interactions we didnt see. enjoy! x all mistakes are mine.

 

 

 

-

 

 

Misty doesn’t know, or remember at first, how to breathe.

Which is different and strange and now that she looks back on it, she doesn’t ever remember taking in air in Hell. Or maybe it’s different there, maybe it’s not exactly living but not exactly dying. She remembers crying, she remembers breathing and pleading and wondering if the world is still spinning while she’s gone. Wonders if dying is just another pain to endure. Sometimes she wonders about where Cordelia is and remembers how she felt under her fingertips and how sometimes Cordelia made it feel like the sun lived in Misty’s chest, like she was a new warmth she’d never felt before. The thoughts are fleeting and fast, and she could never latch onto them long enough to ensure her sanity; because those thoughts of Cordelia that would flicker past her mind in the midst of hell like an old projector felt like the only thing tethering her in reality.

Then she woke up, and she was suddenly in Cordelia’s arms, and Misty can breathe. She can breathe she can breathe she can _breathe._

 

-

 

 

 “Misty…”

She feels her first, Misty feels Cordelia around her as if her very being was consuming her. Is this real? Is she alive? Is she dreaming? Misty wants to stutter something out and ask; for she’s in such a state of disbelief that talking feels like it’ll break the spell she’s in. But she can _feel_ Cordelia again, she smells the same (sweet vanilla and the earth and something that is uniquely Cordelia) and her skin is warm to the touch; and after _so long_ of feeling cold, Misty almost sobs in relief.

Cordelia’s arms around her bring her closer into their embrace, and in the flurry of her own thoughts Misty hears the softest of whispers said against the side of her head. _My dearest Misty._ And she starts to cry.

Cordelia pulls back, there’s a moment Misty wants to whimper out to not let go. For Cordelia to bring her closer and to tug at her chest again, put her arms around her body and warm her aching bones. She feels like hell took a piece of her, but Cordelia’s finger tips trace her lips, even with other’s present and watching on, and Misty feels like the piece is slowly forming again.

How long has she been gone? Cordelia’s hair is longer and darker and Misty’s eyes shine with fresh tears, because in hell she started to forget the image of _love_ she painted in her mind; the image of Cordelia. Felt it fade slowly from her mind; burning at the edges. But now she looks into her eyes, her _real eyes,_ that Misty has never seen before, and it makes her breathe in shakily and for the tears to drop down her cheeks. _She’s beautiful,_ Misty thinks, wanting to breathe the words into the open air.

Instead she blindly grabs to Cordelia’s hands and arms, anything she can latch onto, because she can’t stop staring into her eyes. “Am I?” Misty feels Cordelia wipe her tears away that fall down her cheeks, and the words, how they’re said, make Cordelia sob again. Misty taps her fingers in an unknown pattern against Cordelia’s bicep to make sure she’s real.

 “Yes,” Cordelia traces Misty’s jawline and cups her face, like if she let go, if even for a moment she stopped touching Misty, she would fall from her fingers again. “You’re back,” Cordelia smiles, crying openly, and Misty cries with her too. “You’re _safe.”_

Misty pulls her in for a hug again, crying into her neck, and feels Cordelia clutch to the back of her dress and cry out of sheer happiness. Misty can feel how their chests labour together, how their fronts and stomach’s press against the other like the most comforting pressure, one both crave from the other. At one point their foreheads touch and to Misty it feels like no one in the room exists except for them. It feels like they’re first kiss, they’re first time, they’re first _everything._

Cordelia asks something about _Can you stand?_ And Misty vaguely remembers nodding softly and grabbing to Cordelia’s forearms as she helped her up, imprinting into her memory the feeling of how Cordelia holds her protectively; plays with her hair and keeps her arm tight around Misty’s body. As if telling the universe: _Fucking try and take her away again. I dare you._

Misty sinks into the embrace all too willingly, and looks to Cordelia with a small smile. Cordelia smiles back, like she still can’t believe what she’s seeing, as if it’ll all be ripped away and both woman were being built up on sick type of false hope. Yet nothing changes, Cordelia’s hand twirls a stray piece of Misty’s hair and she looks like she wants to kiss her. Misty wants to kiss her too. She wants to feel her lips against hers again; she wants Cordelia to kiss away the scent of death Misty can taste on her own tongue.

Misty’s eyes flicker back and forth across Cordelia’s face, and maybe spending so many years in hell is making Misty think that she might be finally looking at heaven.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Cordelia hovers over her protectively, which is fine, _more_ than fine, because Misty likes it. And she kind of hovers, too.

Maybe it’s a given when you haven’t seen someone you love for years, someone you thought you lost to the pits of hell, someone who makes you feel like the end of the world isn’t so bad, as long as you’re with them. Maybe.

Misty brings her tea, _Lipton’s,_ she jokingly smiles. And it makes Cordelia laugh, makes her look to Misty in this way that makes butterflies fill her stomach. A tingling that creates a blush across Misty’s cheeks, makes Misty duck her head slightly. Cordelia simply leans up, tucks the curl back behind her ear where it fell. And Misty feels like if Myrtle weren’t here Cordelia would have pulled her towards her, flipped them, covered her body with her own and _kissed_ her. Misty’s chest constricts with the need for it.

 “I knew you for such a short time,” Cordelia breaks the silence with a teary smile, Misty melting as their hands touch over the tea cup. Misty never wants to stop touching her, she never wants to forget how she feels. Cordelia’s voice cracks on the next words, and Misty can feel her heart fracture into a sad smile.

 “And I’ve missed you forever.”

Misty swallows the urge to lean across and take her in her arms; and the feeling burns the whole way down. But Cordelia holds her hand and plays with her fingers in her lap and it feels like an unspoken thought of: _Soon, darling._ So Misty, instead, tells Cordelia how death sticks to Michael like perfume; like rotten flesh, tells her how he radiates a type of evil Misty has never felt before. She’s _scared,_ and maybe Cordelia is too.  

But suddenly Cordelia holds tighter to her hand, talks about fighting and her girls being back and the destruction she saw and-

Misty breathes in, squeezes her eyes shut and feels Cordelia’s hand in hers tighten again, in comfort this time. She looks back up and the love in the other woman’s eyes almost makes Misty curl in on herself.

 “I can’t fight, I’ve lost my footing Miss Cordelia.” The name sparks a type of nostalgia that has both women’s chests feeling lighter, but Misty continues and it feels like tears are coating her throat as she speaks. “I was in hell for so long, I don’t-“ Her words break off as she swallows tears, their hands clasped together. Cordelia opens her mouth to comfort her, but Misty speaks and it feels like Cordelia’s heart could bleed out from her chest.

 “I don’t know where I am anymore.”

Cordelia’s thumb rubs back and forth atop Misty’s hands, and the younger witch looks down to them, centres herself in Cordelia’s light.  “You’ve done enough Misty,” Misty shakes her head softly, but Cordelia presses, saying the words firmly, but coated in a honey dipped sort of love. “Yes, you have.”

 _You’ve done more than enough,_ Cordelia thinks, _you’ve done more than I could ever ask for._

Cordelia traces her finger from Misty’s jaw up to her cheek, cups her face and tilts her head up from her staring contest with their clasped hands. Cordelia warmly tells her to _heal._  

(Misty finally feels like she can.)

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

The fire place crackles to life, and Misty brings her more tea because she feels like she can’t heal Cordelia fast enough, and making tea feels like that’s all she’s good for right now. She wishes she had the mud of her swamp between her fingers so she could take Cordelia’s pain away instantly, melt it in her very hands.

When she comes back Myrtle’s gone, and Cordelia sits up again, smiling that soft way while Misty places the cup in the other woman’s hands – but she squeaks out a surprised sound when instead of sipping it, Cordelia brings her in. Her free hand cupping her cheek and pulling her closer, kissing her softly yet deeply; enough for Misty to gasp into the feeling but sink into it like she were tasting water after years of being in a drought.

They pull back with matching smiles and Misty laughs softly, making Cordelia furrow her brows with a smile at the abrupt, but not unwelcome, sound.

“What?”

Misty softly opens her eyes, biting her lip as she savours the taste of Cordelia. “Nothin’, I just-“ Misty shakes her head, looking to Cordelia with soft eyes, a look that Cordelia feels herself melt to. “You’re the _Supreme,”_ Misty jokes, making Cordelia roll her eyes with a smile as the other woman pokes her in the ribs, making her laugh.

 “I told you you’d make an awesome leader, didn’t I?”

Cordelia bites her lip with a mischievous glint in her eye, suddenly pulling Misty down on top of her and kissing her again. Whispering against her lips as Misty giggles. “Yeah, I suppose you did.”

The flames from the fireplace coat Cordelia in a glow of something spectacular, and Misty pulls back and kisses Cordelia’s nose, hearing her chuckle.

Misty likes to think they deserve this.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

It’s later that night that Cordelia feels Misty tremble in her arms.

It was unspoken Misty would stay with her, it was like the tide coming to the shore, the sun rising, the earth rotating, Misty being with Cordelia, it just _is._ And no one could question it.

It was two am, or maybe three, Cordelia doesn’t remember in her cloudy sleep ridden mind. But with her arms wrapped around Misty from behind, her front pressed against her back, she felt her _tremble._ Shake and whimper in her sleep. It was almost instant how Cordelia awoke, blinking slowly and hushing her softly; her hand pressing lightly against Misty’s lower stomach in soothing circles. She could see from the faint outline of the moon from their open window, how Misty’s face was scrunched up in discomfort, sadness, _terror._

 “Misty?” Cordelia kept her touches soothing and warm, not wanting to startle her as she spoke against the back of her neck, pressing soft kisses. “Misty, baby, wake up. It’s okay-“

It happens like this.

Misty gasps, a pained, chest wracking sound that lies on the cusp of a wail, as she screams awake. She flails her legs out, kicking and sobbing with her eyes shut tight against the fading edges of her nightmare. The bed sheets wrap around her legs and Cordelia already _knows_ it’ll spiral her deeper into her terror, so she widens her eyes and rushes to fling them off Misty’s thighs and legs. Misty stops flailing, but she scurries to the top of the bed, shaking her head and fisting her hair in her hands, whimpering and biting her lip. The bed side lamp flickers on and off, Cordelia feels electricity crackle up her spine at the display of pure uncontained magic that spreads like waves off of her lover. The books on her bookshelf spring forth, hitting the opposite wall in an echoing thud; enough for their pages to tear. Cordelia watches the chaos, her windows opening and shutting as if in a storm, and immediately turns back to her love.

She doesn’t focus on Misty’s powers being bought back though, she doesn’t focus on the pain in her thigh from where Misty accidently kicked her, or the throbbing in her jaw from where her fist lashed out, she focuses on swallowing her worry and pain at the sight of Misty; wanting to take her hurt so Misty doesn’t have to.

 “Misty…” Cordelia’s voice wavers, watching how Misty’s eyes snap open at her voice. She has tears coating her cheeks, chest labouring up and down so fast as she pants. Cordelia approaches slowly, voice soft and loving; hushing her, coaxing her, hand outstretched for her to take. “It’s alright baby, everything’s okay. You’re not there anymore, you’re here, with me. With your Cordelia, okay?”

The haze across Misty’s eyes fades, and she whimpers, a small scared sound that almost breaks Cordelia’s heart in two. It’s instant how Misty brings her hand up to her mouth to muffle her sobs, knees drawn to her chest as Cordelia moves closer. Yet before Cordelia can take her in her arms, Misty has grabbed to the other woman’s sleep shirt in a small, shaking fist. Tugging once, twice, silently pleading for her to envelope her in her arms; cover her in warmth she so desperately needs. Cordelia takes her wordlessly, lets’ Misty burrow into her chest and cling to her.

 “I’ve got you,” The words have Misty crying harder into her neck, and Cordelia closes her eyes and kisses the top of Misty’s head, breathing her in and trying to settle her own heart down. Her own heart that screams at her to crush whatever has Misty so broken.

Misty starts to calm, starts to calm from how Cordelia rocks her in her arms and pours her love for the younger witch into her body. How Cordelia brings Misty into her lap and feels her clutch to the front of her shirt, seeking her anchor against the tides that want to drown her. The lights stop flickering, the windows slowly shut closed, and the books lie scattered around the room in a haze of destruction. But Cordelia doesn’t stop her soothing hand up and down Misty’s back, her soft words spoken against her hair.

 “I’ve got you. I’m here. You’re safe, Misty. I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise.”

Cordelia swallows her own tears, bringing the sheets back up over them. Misty shivers in her hold, clutches harder to her and whimpers slightly as if Cordelia was moving out of their embrace. Cordelia hushes her, reassures her, and lays them down; feeling Misty’s arm across her stomach hold stronger.

They stay like that until the sun rises, and throughout the night Misty jolts from sleep countless times; but it’s tender, beautiful, how Cordelia is there every time with soft words and light touches. Kissing Misty’s forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her neck; reassurances that she’s safe now. Imprinting into her skin the warmth Misty thought she lost.

It’s on the kiss that Cordelia presses to Misty’s forehead that the woman below her gasps, pulling back and furrowing her brow in worry. Cordelia opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong, seeing Misty’s eyes fill with tears again, but not from what she thinks.

 “Did I…do that to you?” Misty cups her cheek, finger tips touching the bruise that’s now formed on Cordelia’s jaw from where Misty accidently hit her. It’s barely visible in the low light of the moon, but Misty blinks once and a regretful tear falls that Cordelia immediately wipes away with the pad of her thumb.

 “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.” Cordelia shakes her head, seeing how Misty opens her mouth to apologise, seeing how she’s already hating herself, blaming herself. “No, none of that. You didn’t mean it, baby.”

Misty shakes her head, not accepting it. She _hurt_ her. She hurt what she loves the most and it tears up her chest and her insides to think what would have happened if Cordelia didn’t stop her. She shuts her eyes and the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them, untangling her hands from Cordelia’s.

 “I...I think I should sleep in another room tonight. I don’t…” Misty bites her lip to stop her tears, feeling like she’s cried for decades. “I don’t wanna hurt you or accidently harm you, I _won’t_ do it, Delia I-“

 “ _No.”_

The firm word has Misty opening her eyes, gazing into Cordelia’s fiery expression. Cordelia has taken her hand again, and behind her fierce gaze Misty sees her falter; and she’s reminded why she fell in love with Cordelia in that moment, Misty is reminded how she fell for Cordelia’s unwavering strength, but it’s her vulnerability that fuels it. She watches how Cordelia shuts her eyes softly, squeezing Misty’s hand in hers, voice shaking.

 “I lost you, I _just_ got you back. I won’t-“ Cordelia swallows, and her voice cracks on the next words at the pent up tears in her throat she refuses to let fall. “I _can’t_ lose you again. I c-c-ca-“

Misty instantly pulls her into her arms, listening to how Cordelia started to breathe faster. And both women cling to the other, their hearts beating against each other with how close they bring their bodies. Sometimes Misty wonders if while she was gone, she took a part of Cordelia with her. Maybe both need to mend, because the fear Misty feels at maybe losing Cordelia too, the thought of her Supreme powers actually fading, fills her with a sadness that almost drowns her.

Maybe it’s not just Misty who has to heal, maybe it’s Cordelia too.

(Maybe they were made to heal each other.)

 

 

-

 

 


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set somewhere after 8x08. im so lowkey scared and unsure of whats gonna happen to cordelia and misty but hey watch me ignore anything bad happening in the next episode and writing these two in love! 
> 
> anyways enjoy, comments and kudos super appreciated xx

 

 

-

 

 

Healing comes in the form of leaving, and Cordelia wonders if her body can even take the feeling of being separated from Misty again; wonders if the atoms, cells, the lining of her heart can bare it.

She doesn’t question it; as soon as Michael’s grip leaves finger nail marks on her skin, the _moment_ he breathes into the open air of his promise, to destroy every last one of them, it was like Cordelia’s mind rang with nothing but the protective notion of seeing her girl’s safe. The air around them still smells of burnt flesh and the sun beats down against Cordelia’s back while Michael _seethes_ it between his lips; an anger in his eyes that just fuels Cordelia’s thoughts.

Her girls will not perish. _She_ will not perish. Michael drops her forearm like it burnt him, Cordelia flexes her fingers from the harsh grip and her other hand tightens around her umbrella as the dust around her feet settles; like it was ceasing to Cordelia’s thoughts.

She _tried,_ and maybe it was naively foolish of her to, and maybe her mother looks at her from hell shaking her head, scoffing, wondering why Cordelia opened her palm to him, offered him redemption, instead of ripping his body apart then and there.

 _Because I’m not like that,_ she thinks. _I am not my mother._

A beat of silence in her thoughts forces Cordelia to swallow, and in the second Michael’s out of her sight, a vision flashes past her mind like a searing white light; her body almost collapsing at the image that greets her. A tear hits the ground and sizzles in the heat; Cordelia swallows the premonition down like bile and her heart stutters like the flickering embers of burning flesh in front of her. But it’s _there,_ at the fore front of her sight and she grits her teeth, willing it away, pushing it from her mind. But it persists, it cracks down the barriers of her magic, forcing her to her knees in agony. She grips the dust in her hands and almost _screams._

The vision is so real and _raw,_ and Cordelia gasps on her stuttering breaths as Misty stands before her. Her mouth is parted in a silent gasp, like she was mid scream, but… _blood_ starts trickling from her mouth. She’s looking at Cordelia like she was made of stars, like what she was seeing was finally heaven. Like her lover hung the moon, Cordelia thinks. And Misty coughs on Cordelia’s name, a strangled whimper, the thick red liquid running down her lips and chest like rain.

In the vision, Michael grins behind her, an evil thing. Gripping Misty Day’s heart in his hand, the organ beating in between his fingers.

Cordelia lets a pained scream leave her lips into the air, tears coating her cheeks as the vision dissipates; heart bleeding at the sight that won’t leave her mind. The burning corpses in front of her lay, as her witness, and maybe as her oracles. _No,_ Cordelia cries to fate, _you don’t get to take her away. You don’t get to fucking take and take and take and-_

The dust around her picks up in response to her chaotic magic, her magic responding out of love, fear, _desperation._ Misty in her mind still looks to her like she hung the galaxies in the sky just for her, plucked them straight from the cosmos, even with her heart out of her chest bleeding and bleeding and _bleeding_ in the hands of the Antichrist. Who’s smiling; sneering, as if to say: _this is how it felt._

Cordelia shuts her eyes, a rage that settles deep into her stomach; festering as she grits her teeth, tears drying in the heat. She wants to watch him _burn._

She thinks then, in between her rage and fury and the image of Misty choking on her own blood, that: _Fuck,_ _maybe I’m not unlike my mother at all._

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Misty knows something’s wrong the minute Cordelia steps foot into the academy.

She’s in the greenhouse, cradling a bowl of paste for the plants as she stirs it idly, and Stevie’s shawl wraps around her shoulders and settles her anxieties at not having Cordelia at her side. The cool air of the room calms her bones and a piece of her starts to form again being back here, one she thought she lost. Misty briefly wonders what the swamp could heal; what it could replace, wonders if the plants overcame her shack and nature took over. Misty smiles at the thought.

In the next moment though, the greenhouse doors slam open, and she stops in her tracks, head tilting in curiosity, heart light at seeing her lover. Her face morphs into an automatic smile, basking in her presence.

 “Delia?”

She felt Cordelia’s magic before she saw her. It’s always been like that, that _knowing_ of Cordelia just by her energy. But it’s…panicked. Unhinged. Cordelia’s normal warm, all-encompassing magic startles Misty in its urgency, and she has to quickly place the bowl she’s holding on the nearby table with wide eyes as the Supreme crashes into her, bringing Misty into her body in a protective hug, hand cupping her neck and breathing her in.

 “Jesus, fuck, you’re okay.”

Misty frowns, hugging her back with just as much vigour, even though she’s in the dark. Cordelia smells of heat and anger and dust. “Course I am. Hey,”

Misty pulls back, a worried look gracing her features as Cordelia pants, like something squeezed the air from her lungs. Her transmutation back here wouldn’t of taken that much energy, right? “What’s wrong? Your magic, it’s-“ Misty softly places her hands on either side of Cordelia’s face, closing her eyes and humming, her thumb rubbing back and forth atop Cordelia’s jaw line soothingly. “You’re down right panicked, Miss Cordelia. I can feel ya magic like waves crashin’ over me.”

Cordelia sighs, Misty’s touch grounding her, and Cordelia grabs to her lover’s forearms like her body would melt away in her touch. “I’m sorry I-” She shakes her head, she doesn’t say that Misty’s magic and presence right now is keeping her upright. She doesn’t voice how a simple transmutation felt like it sucked her very being and energy from her body; instead she mirrors Misty’s hold and kisses her, breathing against her lips like she held the warmth of the stars in her touch.

 “I just missed you.” Cordelia pulls back ever so slightly, breathing against Misty’s lips. It’s a half lie, Cordelia leaves the part out of how she felt like if she didn’t touch Misty as soon as she could, feel her heart beat against her palm, in her chest where it belonged, she wouldn’t feel _real._

Misty’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Cordelia can almost forget about the vision that sits at the recess of her mind when Misty kisses her again; her left hand at Cordelia’s bicep tapping a familiar pattern against her skin, the same tapping Misty did when she first held her after getting back from hell. Cordelia notices this, biting her lip and asking softly.

 “Why do you do that?”

Misty frowns slightly, mindlessly plays with Cordelia’s hair and imagines weaving flowers through it, the soft wild flowers that grow in her swamp. She stores the thought for another day and thinks to ask Cordelia to take her there soon. But right now, communicating through touch, Misty just hopes Cordelia gets the message of “ _I’m here”_ that she trails through her hair as she twirls it around her finger.

 “Do what?”

Cordelia smiles lightly at the child like mannerisms of Misty, and places her hand softly over Misty’s that still is tapping at her bicep. “That, baby. The tapping.”

Misty tilts her head and looks down to their hands, and just as if she realised she was doing it, hums contently. “I think I’m makin’ sure you’re real,” Misty flips her hand and interlaces their fingers, Cordelia’s expression softens at the words, body thrumming with the urge to take Misty into her arms again. Misty smiles softly and looks up from their hands, catching Cordelia’s gaze; and the younger witch speaks with relief coating her words. “You’re very real, Miss Cordelia.”

Cordelia feels her heart skip in beats, and she kisses her again, magic on her lips, and it’s her silent way of saying: _please don’t ever be unreal again._ Misty wants to whisper against her mouth the already spoken words of “You should have left me where I was.” Because guilt and desperation grows inside of Misty’s chest, for sometimes she thinks of the cost of being in Cordelia’s arms and it’s enough, as absurd as it sounds, for her to want to go _back_ to hell _._ Just so Cordelia is safe. So her tribe is _safe._

Cordelia kisses her deeply, her magic coiling around Misty in a protective warmth that seems to scream _I love you I love you I love you._ In the moment, Misty forgets where she herself begins and where she ends.

She starts to wonder if it’s somewhere in Cordelia’s arms.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Cordelia transmutes them to what she dubs as the ‘safe house’, and the first thing Misty feels is _life._ Thick, green, sticky life. It thrums just under her skin, bringing her body to a halt, a gasp leaving her lips as realisation settles in.

To Misty’s surprise and wonder, Madison’s disgust, Zoe and Queenies confusion, and Myrtle’s curiosity; the _safe house_ is Misty’s home.

 “Jesus, our last saving grace is the swamp witches _shack?”_

Cordelia throws a warning glare to Madison, the younger girl folding her arms and rolling her eyes at the look. But she doesn’t say a word after, Zoe bites her lip to hold in her laugh when Madison tries to speak, but no words leave her lips from the silencing spell Cordelia softly cast over her. Madison grits her teeth and makes a beeline for the wooden structure, ignoring Queenie’s barks of laughter. Myrtle simply sighs and beckons Zoe with her to the shack, breathing in the nature around her.

Half of it escapes Misty’s mind though, because she instantly turns to Cordelia, tears brimming the surface of her eyes because she’s _overwhelmed._ The feeling that courses through her body at being back here, the air and the sounds and the smell, the feeling of her swamp that vibrates its own type of magic back to her has Misty at a loss. Cordelia smiles softly, knowingly, letting out a soft and mirthful grunt when Misty barrels into her, hugging her so closely it feels like they’ll become one.

 “Y-You looked after it,” Misty mumbles it into Cordelia’s neck, and the Supreme can’t help but smile with her, because Misty shares her emotions and magic with Cordelia like the air she breathes. She pulls back, beaming, and quickly pecks Cordelia’s lips as she kicks her boots off; curling her toes between the soft grass and giggling at the feeling. Cordelia feels Misty take her hand and tug once, looking expectantly to her, and Cordelia chuckles out a question. “What?”

Misty looks back to her like it’s obvious. “Well? Ditch those heels Miss Supreme, can’t feel the magic around you in four-inch killers.”

Cordelia opens her mouth, furrowing her brows. “Misty-“

Misty pouts, bringing out _that_ look Cordelia can never resist. So she relents, sighing, laughing softly when Misty bounces on the balls of her feet in victory, grinning. “Okay! Okay. They’re coming off. Jesus, if you want me to play in mud you don’t have to pout like I kicked your puppy.”

Misty frowns adorably. “We don’t own a puppy, Delia.”

Cordelia leans her left hand on Misty’s shoulder, taking her heels off and fondly smiling at how the joke just goes over Misty’s head. With how she is almost thrumming in excitement, Cordelia’s not surprised it did. The magic of her swamp fills her love with a light, with energy Cordelia was worried Misty would never get back. Cordelia’s heart fills at the sight.

When her other heel is off, both dangling in her hand, Misty grabs her other and closes her eyes, smiling contently as she lets the sun hit her face. Cordelia warmly looks to her, basks in her beauty and wonders how fucking _lucky_ she is. She thinks of the vision, but it seems so far off now, Misty encompasses her mind and thoughts and senses and everything she sees is coated in a warm light because of the woman in front of her. She forgets the reason she bought them all here, to keep them protected and out of Michael’s sight; Cordelia can feel the protection spell she cast over the shack beating softly under her skin, reminding her.

But then Misty squeezes once to her hand, opening her eyes and staring into Cordelia’s. “Can ya feel that?”

Cordelia bites her lip, listens to the cicadas singing, the swaying of the trees, she breathes in and focuses on Misty’s touch. She guesses she _can_ feel this undercurrent of magic, the natural energy that Cordelia and Misty first bonded over all those years ago in the greenhouse. So, Cordelia breathes out, dropping her heels on the ground to take Misty’s other hand, Misty grinning at the action.

 “Yeah, I can. It’s beautiful, feels like-“

 “A Stevie Nicks song, huh?”

Cordelia chuckles, tucking a thick lock of Misty’s hair behind her ear, playing with the feather that lays intertwined in there and kisses her softly. “Yes, a Stevie Nicks song, baby.”

Misty hums as Cordelia pulls away, keeping her eyes closed after the kiss. “This is what I think our heaven is. Just you. And my swamp. And forever. Doesn’t that just sound dreamy?”  
  
Cordelia feels her throat close up with emotion, and she cups Misty’s face, softly tracing her features and imprinting in her mind how she feels. It does sound dreamy, it sounds fucking beautiful and perfect and Cordelia wants for it so badly, that she almost gasps out a cry when Misty lays her hand at her chest, feeling Cordelia’s heartbeat as she looks to her.

 “Delia? You’re tremblin’.”

Cordelia breathes in deeply, calming her erratic heart. She closes her eyes and focuses on Misty’s thumb rubbing at where her heart lays. “I’m...I’m alright.”

Misty worries her bottom lip with her teeth and her other hand comes to softly lay at Cordelia’s waist, but that’s too close to _it_ and Cordelia instinctively recoils, wincing as Misty retracts her hand like she hurt her. Misty’s own chest starts to labour because something’s _wrong_ and she can feel it in the way Cordelia breathes. So Misty frowns and slowly, but softly, lays her hand at the spot again, watching how Cordelia shuts her eyes and grits her teeth.

 “Darlin’, what’s wrong? You’re scarin’ me. I don’t-“ Misty shakes her head, tears gathering in her eyes at how lost she feels. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Why does it feel like death where I’m touchin’ ya, Delia?”

Misty presses harder, like she could take the pain for her, but Cordelia’s hand over hers stops her. Cordelia breathes out and opens her eyes, heart breaking at the tears gathering in Misty’s eyes as she reassures her, even though she knows her words not to be true. “I’m okay, I’m fine, it’s just a small wound.”

Misty looks up, letting a tear fall, the decay crawling from the spot on her lover makes Misty shake her head and pour her light magic into her touch. “No, no, it ain’t. It should be healed by now. Let me see, please.”

Cordelia sighs. “Misty-“

 “ _Please,_ Delia, just let me look. Just-” Misty’s voice cracks and she shuts her eyes, breathing deeply to calm her trembling voice. “Please.”

Cordelia opens her mouth, but she feels Misty’s hand at her skin and the way her voice cracks and she thinks to herself _Jesus, Cordelia, she’s just as scared as you. Who are you to do this to her?_ So she softly lets go of Misty’s hand against her side, and untucks her blouse from her pants, holding it up against her ribcage as the wound hits the thick air of the swamp.

Misty gasps, a soft sound, but those tears _finally_ fall and Cordelia hates herself, she _hates_ herself because Misty doesn’t deserve more pain, more anguish, in her life. Especially amongst the trees and life and her place of solace. But Misty lays her open hand on the wound and before Cordelia can blink, she kneels in front of her. Cordelia opens her mouth to ask what Misty’s doing, already holding to Misty’s wrist to tug her back up, but the woman below her simply looks up with this look of resolution and devotion and _intention_. Cordelia realises then, when Misty presses both palms to the wound, what she’s doing.

 “Misty, no-“

But Misty continues as if she didn’t hear her, voice cracking on her tears and it’s a mix of Latin and incantations that Cordelia taught her between flowers and spells. All jumbled together in one mix of pleas to mother nature to _heal_ her; and Cordelia feels it grow and grow over the festering wound, and it makes her close her eyes when Misty lets her forehead rest at her navel, hands pressing to the wound as she whispers the spell into her skin.

She thinks she hears amongst the broken Latin; _“She ain’t yours to have.”_ But Cordelia can’t remember, because in the next moment she’s kneeling too, Misty catching her in her arms as she collapses. Misty holds her close, and the grass beneath them moulds to their bodies and their bare feet centre them in the earth. And Cordelia gasps, feeling a hot heat of light at her side where her wound laid.

 “I’ve got you, Miss Cordelia.”

And in light of the circumstances, Cordelia chuckles breathlessly at the name Misty still calls her, head on the younger witch’s shoulder as they hold each other on the warm ground.  Misty smiles with her, feeling the skin of the wound close up, and the swamp whispers to Misty that Cordelia will be just fine.

 “You never gave up on me, Delia. I ain’t giving up on you, okay?” Cordelia clutches to the back of Misty’s shawl and rests her head on her collarbone, breathing deep, feeling her chest tighten at the words.

She counts in her mind the amount of times she tried, throughout the years, to get Misty back from hell. It amounts to the same number of times she remembers crying and screaming and making candles flare dangerously with flames when she failed, licking the ceiling of her bedroom. But Misty’s _here,_ against her, so instead Cordelia commits to memory how Misty smells of lavender and honey suckle and sweat; musky and sweet and _her._ “I love you. I think more than anythin’ I’ve ever loved, Miss Cordelia.”

Cordelia pulls back, looking to Misty who looks back to her with kind eyes and a soft smile and Cordelia feels _powerful_ when the words leave Misty’s lips. She feels so many things at once and she breathes out a light laugh, kissing Misty and saying “I love you too. Jesus, I love you too” against Misty; feeling her lover laugh into the press of their lips as well.

Cordelia pushes Misty back into the grass and smiles against her lips when Misty lets out a shocked squeal, her back meeting the soft earth as their bodies fall together. They laugh, breaking their kiss but meeting the others lips almost instantly when they separate; and Misty fists her hands in Cordelia’s soft hair, wanting to succumb to the woman she loves. The sun hits their skin, and the swamp holds them as Misty tugs at Cordelia’s blouse and pulls her closer; Cordelia smiling against her lips when their bodies meet.

Healing comes in the form of leaving. And Misty knows the reason Cordelia bought them, _her,_ here. She felt the protection spell over her shack the minute her feet hit the earth. But Misty knows Cordelia’s scared and she knows she herself needs to heal; she knows this is where she needs to be when the fight ahead happens. And god, she knows Cordelia loves her too much to say it all. To tell her. To resign to the fact they’ll be apart again – but Misty can give her this. This moment where they are suspended in nothing but each other. And Cordelia feels the love and thoughts of Misty come off of her in waves as they kiss, bodies covered in the earth, and a tear trails down her cheek and meets Misty’s chin.

 “I’ll be back, okay?” Cordelia whispers against her lips, foreheads touching as Misty closes her eyes at the words. “I promise you, Misty. I’ll come back to you.”

 _They always leave,_ she used to think, when it was just her and Stevie and her swamp. _They never come back._

But with the way Cordelia kisses her and promises Misty, with how her voice sounds like the promise of new life, Misty _believes_ her. And in the background, she hears the crashing of something in her shack with Zoe admonishing Madison, and the swamp breathes with her as Cordelia above her shines with a halo of sunlight as Misty looks up at her.

Misty breathes out against her lips. “You better, sunshine.”

Cordelia raises an eyebrow, a small smile on her face. The moment is soft again, and not so weighted. “Sunshine?”

Misty shrugs, playing with the soft hairs at the base of Cordelia’s neck. “Yeah, too mushy?”

Cordelia shakes her head, chuckles, and kisses Misty’s forehead. “Not at all, baby.”

 _T_ _his is what I’ll come back to,_ Cordelia thinks, _this is what I’m fighting for._

Misty presses a kiss to the hollow of Cordelia’s throat, so tender and innocent, that it steals the very breath from Cordelia’s lungs. And Cordelia closes her eyes and channels more of her magic into the protection ward around the swamp, around Misty, as they share the same breath.

 _She is what I’d die for,_ she thinks.

_She is what I’d die for._

 

_-_

 


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chap to this mini fic! thank u sm for all ur support, i love these two so much and tbh? im just so happy they survived in the end of apocalypse, they're soulmates and THATS the tea.
> 
> comments and kudos super appreciated! enjoy x

 

-

 

 

Cordelia always thought dying would hurt more.

The blade to her chest feels like fire, Cordelia thinks, but more like soft embers at the ending of a flame. It reminds her of the hurt not that long ago; when she breathed in deep and pierced her own eyes with sheers. When she sacrificed and _sacrificed_ over and over again; for her girls, for the coven, and she wonders how she could have been so figuratively, and literally, blind. Blind to her powers. Blind to how sometimes Misty would trail her hand up her arm or how _close_ they gravitated to the other and how it took them so long, so tragically, to realise what they had.

Thinking of Misty now, a blade buried into her chest, she finds the time to smile. It feels freeing, almost, like her heart was wanting for this moment for years but never knew how to ask for it.

She has a moment, somewhere in between Myrtle screaming her name and watching Michael’s eyes widen, that she wonders if it’s the universe or fate or her own stubborn heart that both times that she hurt herself for the people she loves, rooted from an overwhelming urge to feel that love _back._ And she did, she felt that love and she _has_ that love; its bright and powerful and sprouts from Zoe and Queenie and Madison and Mallory and Myrtle and-

She never told Misty there was a chance of dying, but maybe that was unspoken. Maybe it was words neither wanted to entertain the thought of. She remembers how Misty pressed kisses into her neck as they lay on the swamp earth not two days ago, how she whispered for her to come back, that “You _have_ to come back, Delia. Okay? You have to.” She thinks of how Misty’s voice cracked and how she kissed her lover to distract her, so Cordelia didn’t break and succumb to the desperate tears in Misty’s eyes that were begging for her to stay.

When she falls backwards, Michael running to the edge, her mind plays images like a kaleidoscope across her vision. She sees Misty twirling and humming with Stevie; the sun warm and bright on her skin. And she’s tasting the spring cherries that grow in her greenhouse; protected from the atomic bombs, singing and entertaining the thought of moving the tomato plants nearer to the water’s edge, because the brown on the edges of their leaves make it look like they’re wilting.

Cordelia hits the ground, lifeless. She feels like she’s wilting too.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Mallory is so _familiar_ that when the younger girl hugs her, face pressed just above Cordelia’s chest from their height, Cordelia laughs lightly and pulls back. There’s drops of the other girl’s tears on her skin; and Cordelia’s eyebrows furrow slightly. She wonders who hurt this young woman before she came here.

 “Oh! You’re a hugger.”

Mallory seems to shy at that, mumbling a soft “sorry” with a smile. The way she glances to the floor and the way Mallory folds her arms, the flowers in her hair, the belt around her waist, the floral pattern of her dress, how the power she first showed her was resurrection; seems so much like _her_ that it hits Cordelia straight in the chest. Her breath hitches, tears springing to her eyes; she hasn’t said Misty’s name in almost a year and sometimes she wakes up screaming at the memory; her shawls sit folded in her wardrobe, untouched.

In the next moment Mallory frowns, noticing the sudden change, but Cordelia shakes her head and smiles again, holding her hands to the front of her and gesturing to the stairs of the academy. “Let me give you a tour, shall we?”

Mallory remembers then – how Cordelia clutched to Misty when she came back from hell, how she cradled her face and pressed their foreheads together and never let her out of her sight; only when they got to her shack; like she was trying to kiss the five years they lost into her. And she realises then, Cordelia never _got_ that, she never hugged Misty to her chest and showed her love for her soulmate in front of the Antichrist without abandon, without a care as to who would object. She lost her to hell and to the Seven Wonders and Mallory wonders if Cordelia still blames herself, she wonders if the pain in her heart has lessened.

It hasn’t, Mallory can tell.

 _This time,_ in this timeline, only a year has passed.

(Mallory frowns, she wonders why she’s letting herself be shown where the library is when the Supreme’s soulmate is still in hell.)

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Misty is surrounded by light, like a halo, when Cordelia sees her. And she feels like the world melts away.

She feels like crashing into her, Cordelia wants to hug her to her chest and never let go because she’s _here,_ she’s here she’s here she’s here. Misty, with her golden hue. Misty, with her soft expression and love in her eyes and her heart on her sleeve; Cordelia sobs her name out and _how_ is this possible? _How_ is she here? She grabs to Misty’s body when she’s in her arms, she still smells like the earth, floral scented; and Cordelia breathes her in, feeling Misty burrow her head into her shoulder.

 “Oh, how I’ve _missed_ you.”

Cordelia sobs, laughing lightly as Misty’s voice hits her ears. Her heart feels so light in her chest she’s worried she’ll choke on it. In the back of her mind, words that sound like her own pass her mind, like de ja vu, as if she spoke something similar to Misty’s soft words. _I’ve missed you forever._

Misty presses closer, and Cordelia forgets the words because in the next moment Misty pulls back, her expression melting as they lock eyes. Cordelia tucks a thick lock of Misty’s hair behind her ear, smiling with tears trailing down to her chin, and she’s so _real._ Her skin is warm. Eyes a bright baby blue. Looking to Cordelia like she hung the stars.

 “This can’t be real,” Cordelia breathes out, cradling Misty’s face, and Misty looks back to her like she can’t believe it either. “How…how can this possible?”

Misty trails her own hand up to Cordelia’s, holding to it as if she’d slip away. She smiles, laughing with tears in her eyes and she looks down to Nan, her unoccupied hand softly squeezing the younger witches shoulder. “This one, she showed up with the voodoo demon-“ Cordelia looks to Nan, eyes shining with grateful tears; she feels Misty’s tears on the pad of her thumb where her palm lays against her cheek, and she looks up to Misty as she chokes out the next words. 

 “She took my hand, and guided me _home_.”

Home.

Cordelia laughs, tears in her eyes, and she can’t help it; but she pulls Misty into another hug again and feels how the other woman’s chuckles against her chest feel like hope. They feel like new life and safety; and Misty mumbles into Cordelia’s hair in the embrace, breath tickling the Supremes’ ear and lighting her heart up; jumpstarting erratic beats.

 “Home,” Misty sighs a breath of contentment, and Cordelia shuts her eyes at how she feels Misty clutch harder to her body, voice cracking dangerously on a whimper. “I’m _home_.”

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

When Zoe sees Misty, tears spring forth to her eyes and in two seconds flat Misty has an arm full of Zoe, who’s hugging her tightly and laughing, tears falling down her cheeks. Misty lets out a soft grunt when the younger witch collides into her, and she laughs and smiles over the top of Zoe’s head, looking to Cordelia who looks on with a soft expression, smiling with them. Mallory, next to her, bites her lip to contain her smile; swallowing the tears that want to escape.

Queenie, just behind Zoe, smiles brightly; joining the hug. This feeling of _love_ comes over Misty so strongly, so suddenly, that when Queenie breathes out a tearful “Hey girl” Misty starts to cry too, heart thudding in her chest. 

 “You’re _back,_ holy shit. Misty-“ Zoe pulls back, Queenie following, and she’s bright eyed and full of life, shaking her head unbelievably, looking to her Supreme for answers. “Cordelia, how…?”

Cordelia walks forwards, settling her hand softly at the small of Misty’s back. Misty melts at this, body warming, never wanting Cordelia to stop touching her. “It was Nan, I don’t…I don’t fully understand how but-“ Misty looks to her, smile soft, and Cordelia lets out a disbelieving laugh, eyes tracing every inch of Misty’s face. “She’s _home_.”

Zoe looks back to Misty, and Cordelia can already see the question on the young girl’s lips; already sees the name tumbling from her mouth. Cordelia remembers how Zoe clutched to the front of her dress and cried, how she pressed her face into Cordelia’s neck. How she shut her eyes so the knowledge of Madison’s death could somehow be erased. Like if she muttered the broken Latin strongly enough her body would magically reappear. Cordelia remembers how Zoe watched Kyle’s body burn, for harming another witch, tears refusing to fall.

She hears the question projected into her mind.

_Where’s Madison?_

But, to Cordelia’s surprise, Zoe blinks back tears and instead hugs Misty again; smiling with light in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Misty hugs her back, grinning. Cordelia feels the magic of her girls swarm her so heavily, that she swallows thickly, smiling reassuringly when Misty looks to her in worry at how tears gather in the Supremes’ eyes.

She stopped wishing eons ago that she could have this. And now, that it’s here, _in front_ of her and radiating around her very being, Cordelia feels her chest fill up with the feeling until she can’t breathe.

She holds to it.

She’s never letting it go.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Cordelia starts to see a pattern; and it’s that Mallory is always there when one of her girls comes back.

Madison walks through the double doors, shutting it loudly as Mallory follows in behind her. And Cordelia, feeling the chaotic magic of _Madison Montgomery_ fill her senses again as she cooks in the kitchen with Misty, walks swiftly to the front entrance; almost dropping everything in her hands as Misty blinked owlishly at her departure. Cordelia’s breath leaves her lungs all at once, and she feels like wrapping the girl up in her arms. So she does.

 “Jesus, okay _okay_. Did you forget I’m not a hugger?”

Cordelia chuckles, holding her closer. “Tough shit.”

That de ja vu comes back, so strongly Cordelia almost gasps.

Madison tries to hide her smile in Cordelia’s shoulder, sobering up quickly and pushing her off. She doesn’t know _how_ or _why_ this is happening, and nothing makes sense and that feeling of _something like this has happened before_ nags at the back of her mind; but Cordelia looks to Mallory with imploring eyes, furrowing her brows when the younger witch ducks her head, biting her lip and looking to the floor.

Cordelia ends up not questioning it. Because she hears Zoe come up behind her, gasping. Watches how Madison’s face softens the instant she sees her, arms unfolded from her closed off stance as Zoe collides into her. Cordelia swears she hears “Don’t ever fucking leave me again.” and smiles when Madison merely chuckles at Zoe’s words.

 “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Cordelia marvels at how sometimes, she can easily see her and Misty in Zoe and Madison’s story too. How it feels like you can’t truly breathe properly without the other by your side. How it feels to lose your soulmate to hell.

Misty finally catches up, and she smiles softly at what greets her. But in the next moment she tilts her head, furrowing her eyebrows in thought.

 “Huh.”

Cordelia raises an eyebrow, holding Misty’s hand and rubbing her thumb back and forth atop her knuckles. “What?”

Misty shakes her head, snorting on a laugh as she rests her head on top of Cordelia’s shoulder, never-mind the height difference.

 “I kinda forgot she buried me in a crypt once.”

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Cordelia never really knew she’d have someone to call home.

 _Home_ is seeing Misty every morning, home is Cordelia holding her from behind as they sleep and waking her up by kissing the back of her neck. _Home_ is Misty laughing sleepily at the feeling, squirming in Cordelia’s arms as the older woman chuckles at her half hearted attempts at escaping wakefulness. Home, Cordelia likes to think, is the feeling of Misty mumbling “Five more minutes, Delia.” as she turns in her embrace and burrows her face into her neck, sighing contently as Cordelia rolls her eyes fondly.

The feeling of having her, of holding Misty in her arms again sometimes is so overwhelming that Cordelia has to press her nails into her forearm to make sure she’s not dreaming. She looks down to Misty, face pressed into her neck, her arm slung around Cordelia’s waist and leg throw lazily over her own and Cordelia softens. She’s caught in Misty’s effortless beauty, how she sighs softly when Cordelia runs her nails up and down Misty’s spine. Lightly, lulling her in and out of sleep.

 “You’re thinkin’ too loud,” Misty’s breath is warm on Cordelia’s neck, and she smiles when Misty places soft kisses at her collarbone. Her hand comes up to the back of Misty’s neck, softly scratching at the base of it, and she _swears_ Misty purrs at the feeling, like a house cat in the sun. It makes Cordelia chuckle softly.

 “I am?”

Misty hums affirmatively, eyes closing and kisses stopping as Cordelia makes her feel like melting into the sheets. “If ya keep doin’ that, I’ll forget to ask what’s wrong.”

Cordelia smiles, biting her lip, not easing on the light massaging of Misty’s neck. “You didn’t wake up last night, did you notice?”

Misty softly blinks her sleepy eyes open, frowning at first but her face relaxing as realisation dawns on her features. She wasn’t restless, she didn’t wake up at two am or three am; she slept in Cordelia’s arms safely and warmly and _hell_ didn’t sit behind her eyelids. For the first time in _weeks._

“I slept the whole night.” Misty bites her lip, smiling, pulling back from her comfortable spot at Cordeila’s neck and beaming. “I didn’t scream, I didn’t have a nightmare! Delia-“

And Cordelia laughs as Misty lunges forwards and kisses her, her happiness rolling of her in waves. Cordelia smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through Misty’s hair, chuckling when Misty straddles her waist and bounces on her midsection in glee; hands at her stomach holding her up. She’s bright and warm and Cordelia looks up at her lover, leaning up on her elbows as she watches the morning sun beam through her windows and bathe Misty in a golden light – and Misty smiles down to her; expression soft and so full of unconditional _love_ that Cordelia’s heart begs to leap out of her chest.

 “I think I’m okay now,” Misty softly speaks, cupping Cordelia’s face in her hands as tears gather in her eyes. Cordelia leans up and kisses the ones that fall.

 “I think…I think we’re healed, Miss Cordelia, don’t you?”

In answer, Cordelia smiles and flips their positions, listening to the light-hearted squeal Misty lets out at the action. They settle, Misty’s hair fanned out across the white pillows, giggling as Cordelia kisses her softly and presses the love of a thousand words into her lips. “I do, baby.”

And maybe this isn’t where their story ends, but rather, where it starts.

 

 

-

 

 

 


End file.
